


Lethallin

by Green_Sphynx



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 05:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10298312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Sphynx/pseuds/Green_Sphynx
Summary: Because Merrill really isn't that innocent little girl that she seems to be. Anders has no regrets of learning all about it.





	

"Don't make me regret this."

"If you do, you only have yourself to blame, lethallin."

Anders pushed the small elven woman against the rough wall of her home, looming over her - like he was threatening her. Which he really wasn't, but he was most definitely testing her. He leaned in to nearly brush their lips together, stopping just short to see her reaction.

Her reaction was even better than he could've hoped.

Her hand shot up and long calloused fingers wove into his hair. She gave a sharp tug, a heavy frown marring the face that would normally always smile.

An upset frown that made him shudder, because although he was intimately familiar with that face, he had never seen her act out when looking like this. Many insults from both himself and Fenris had brought her to frown like this, but never did she speak more of it. Never did she allow herself to be baited for more than a few steps. Never did she grab his hair and pulled, her stance full of confidence despite her smaller stature.

"No, lethallin. That is not how we will be doing this."

"Aren't we?" He meant to sound challenging, but his voice came out a touch too breathy. And she heard it, judging by the way her lip quirked for a moment.

She may be dense on many things, but she knew when she was making someone uncomfortable. Or _not_ making someone uncomfortable, as the case may be.

"No," she said again, her grip on his hair loosening so she could give the back of his head a light pat. "No, lethallin, we won't. You know we won't. Why don't you sit down?"

Her eyes flickered down and Anders' followed, widening when he realised she wanted him to sit down on the floor, right where they stood. He had the impression she meant 'kneel' rather than 'sit'.

"I don't see why I would," he countered, still not moving away from her. It no longer felt like he was pinning her, like he was looming dangerously. He felt more like he was at her mercy already, despite their positions.

"Because I'll make sure you won't regret this, Anders," she breathed against his lips, raising on her tiptoes to reach but not kiss. Stopping short, teasing like he had.

...

"Just breathe in deeply, lethallin. You can take it."

Anders' fingers tightened on the worn rug and he gritted his teeth, desperately trying to relax his muscles. She had prepared him amply, and yet the stretch was... so much. Too much. Too wide, too dry, too hard-

Her fingers feathered over the small of his back and she shushed him gently, and the tension released with a shuddering sigh. The wooden phallus slid in easily at that, plenty lubrication allowing her to press in deep.

He kneaded the rug now, an almost nervous tick while trying to even his breathing, trying to adapt the the large smooth wood of the toy pressed into him. Merrill bottomed out completely without scruples, making him gasp and whine when her hips touched his arse.

Her skin was like fire against him, her fingers a burning trail where they skidded over his back, every so often slipping down to hold onto his hips so she could make sure she remained pressed in as deeply as possible, flush to him.

She was at least being kind enough not to start thrusting like an animal in heat yet, giving him plenty time to adapt. The only time Anders had done this before with a woman, she hadn’t quite grasped that.

Then again, it was in the Circle, and only very few men had the patience to wait there either.

Merrill’s hips moved in small little rolls, not quite fucking him but not quite holding still either. Anders moaned and squirmed at the tiny movements of the strap-on inside of him, everything pressing too much and stretching him too wide, and all of it was bliss. He had wondered what Merrill needed a toy this big for, having such a tiny frame herself, but right now all he could think of was how snugly it fit into his arse.

The elf made soft gasping noises herself now, and Anders realised belatedly she was rubbing herself off against the base of the toy. He somehow managed to glance over his shoulder, giving her a pleading look that prompted her to smile brightly at him.

“Ready, lethallin? Want me to start gentle now?”

The bright tone of her voice clashed completely with what she asked. What her words implied. ‘Should I fuck you roughly or do you want to get used to the feeling of this thing before we get to that?’

He whimpered pathetically and pressed back against her, lowering his head and pressing his face to the rug. It was dirty, but it didn’t matter. He wanted Merrill to fuck him and she decided that this was his place.

“P-please… just fuck me…”

“Any time you ask, lethallin,” she chirped, and in the same breath her hips drew back, pulling the phallus almost entirely out of Anders’ arse. His breath hitched and his muscles tensed in anticipation - and he was rewarded with her slamming back into him hard.

He cried out, fingers scrabbling over the floor when they suddenly lost their grip on the rug. He had no idea how a woman with such a tiny frame could put so much strength in a thrust - although it may just be his position, sprawled on the floor with his arse up in the air, that made it feel that way.

But the second thrust was the same, and the third and the fourth and before he knew it he was shouting with a hoarse voice, his hips moving back against her for each thrust of the toy, rubbing him deep inside.

He had wondered about the toy’s design initially, but he found she had no trouble using her hard thrusts to massage up against his prostate on every time she slammed in. Every time it felt like he was exploding, every time he saw stars.

As quiet as he could be with sex, she was drawing all the noise out of him he could make. She would probably get in trouble with the neighbours for the racket he was making.

He couldn’t possibly care less, instead calling out her name raggedly for more.

She didn’t need to touch more of him than the firm grip on his hips and the occasional teasing sliding of her fingers over his back. She drew all of the toy’s value out of its design with her insistent rhythm, and Anders lost track of time while he built up to his peak and finally spilt over. She didn’t stop immediately, but her thrusts quickly changed focus from drawing over his sweet spot to rubbing in deep, her hips rolling to ride herself up against the toy desperately until she gasped quietly, stilling behind him.

Anders panted, whimpering and overly sensitive, but in no way inclined to ask her to stop. She would stop soon without his prompting, and he was not ready to sink that low yet. He was pretty sure she’d get him there if there was to be a repeat of tonight - which he hoped of course - but he’d have her work for it.

Or… let her make _him_  work for it, probably.

“A-and, lethallin… any regrets?”

Somehow Anders managed to moan and snort at the same time, a fairly pitiful sound of amusement while he deflated and flopped down on the floor, the toy sliding out of him slickly.

“Andraste’s frilly knickers, Merrill… no… no I really, _really_  don’t.”


End file.
